


Swings and Roundabouts.

by BarPurple



Series: Deca'verse [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Heaven, Hell, Humor, Mild Gore, Purgatory, Slow Romance, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1851724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was tired of going round in circles, but he shouldn't have worried Life was more than happy to swing in the odd wrecking ball just for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting the Skinny.

Sam couldn’t believe how much better he felt after a shower, food and coffee. While they’d eaten the conversation stayed at small talk level. Toto had snuffled around huffily until Cas mojoed up a doggie bowl of kibble for him. Sam had to laugh at the delight that the angel took in using his restored powers for something so trivial. Once everyone had taken the edge off their hunger the conversation shifted gears and Sam told Charlie and Dorothy about the fallout from the Trials and Gadreel.

Both women felt that Dean had been a bit of a dick for tricking Sam into saying ‘Yes’ to Gadreel. Charlie did point out that moving Heaven, Earth and Hell was Dean’s MO when it came to looking after Sam and as she said;

“If you hadn’t had an angel riding you I’d have been toast after that witch hit.”

Even Castiel had laughed at her word choice on that one and Toto yapped at them from his spot on the floor by Dorothy’s feet. The laughter dried up sharply as Sam explained how Gadreel had killed Kevin on Metatron’s orders. Charlie had cried a little at that point and Castiel disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a pot of tea and carefully poured Charlie a cup before he acknowledged the bemused looks on the others faces.

“When a woman is crying you make them tea; it’s something I learnt when I was human. Is that not correct?”

Charlie assured Cas that it was perfectly correct. Sam was surprised that they even had a teapot in the Bunker, but had to give the angel credit for the smooth move that got Charlie past her tears. Judging by the look on Cas’s face the red head had found herself quite a fan.

Untangling the story around the Mark of Cain took the most time. Charlie and Dorothy simply listened while Sam and Cas explained Crowley’s role in finding the means to defeat Abaddon; the actual fight with the last Knight of Hell; then going after Metatron and re-opening the Gates of Heaven. Once they’d cover all the basics Sam sat back and took a grateful drink of the fresh coffee Cas had made for him.

He waited while Dorothy and Charlie exchanged a look accompanied by small facial gestures and shrugs. Sam wondered just how much they had gone through in Oz to be able to communicate like, well like him and Dean used to be able too. As his eyes lingered on Dorothy he found himself hoping that she and Charlie shared a sisters-in-arms kind of bond and nothing romantic. Surprised by the direction his mind had wandered in Sam mentally slapped himself and forced himself to focus.

The women finished their silent chat and turned to face the hunter and angel. Charlie spoke first;

“Okay, kudos on ganking Abaddon and fixing Heaven. Also good move on getting the angels back on our side by not ganking Metatron, we are going to need all the help we can get.”

Both men nodded their thanks at the praise, (Sam totally spotted the shy smile Cas gave Charlie), but Sam knew the other shoe was about to drop, so he braced himself for whatever was coming next. There was a beat of a pause then Dorothy spoke.

“I’m amazed that you Winchester boys are alive. When something as old as the Father of Murder mentions consequences you sit his ass down and get details, not just rush in headlong. With planning like that Death must see you so often you’re on his Christmas card list.”

In his peripheral vision Sam caught Cas give a little ‘Yeah’ shrug at the dying comment. Honestly Sam agreed with her, but he felt a stab of annoyance at getting grief for Dean’s lack of planning. Feeling the need to defend himself, Sam said;

“Dean was with Crowley when he rushed to take the Mark. He’d didn’t talk that one through with me.”

Dorothy’s face was unreadable as she softly asked;

“Why weren’t you with him, Sam?”

“He stuck another fricking angel in my head! He lied to me again! He kept things from me again!”

The words escaped Sam’s throat as a shout that echoed from the lofty ceiling. Sam realized he was gasping for breath. He uncurled his fists and ran his shaking hands through his hair. As he got himself back under control he became aware of a low sound. Toto was standing by Dorothy’s feet his hackles up as he growled at Sam. With a motion of her hand she called the terrier to heel. Her face a picture of calm she simply said;

“So?”

The look of incredulity of Sam’s face was off the scale. He actually gaped and did a passable impression of a koi carp as he tried to find any words at all. Before he came up with a suitably scathing reply Dorothy carried on speaking.

“Dean screwed up. He pissed you off and hurt your feelings. You duke it out; get drunk; get over it and get the hell on with the job.”

“Do you have any idea how many times Dean and me have done that dance? Nothing changes; I’ve still got a brother who can’t trust me.”

Dorothy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I’m calling bull on that. If the road to hell is paved with good intentions then from the sound of it Dean has a whole sidewalk of his own, and every foot of it says ‘I did it for Sammy’.”

Sam remembered telling Dean, ‘You didn’t save me for me. You did it for you.’ Those words sounded harsh to him now, but he wished Dean would do things for himself and not keep sacrificing himself for everyone else. It was the same wish he’d always had for his big brother. Sam sighed and rubbed a hand across his eyes as he dropped his head.

“I’m tired of me and him going round in circles.”

Dorothy leant forward and tapped the table in front of Sam until she was sure she had his attention.

“That’s the life. We go round and round. Each time you get back to where you started you take pride in there being a little less evil in the world; you mourn those you’ve lost and you thank your lucky stars for whatever you’ve still got.”

She paused and watched him closely as her words sank in and then carried on.

“So man up Winchester; we’ve got to save your big brother.”


	2. Creature Comforts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Traveling by mojo and solving a vital clue, Charlie is so Girl on Fire today.

The four of them had talked for hours and Sam’s throat felt scratchy by the end of it. Glancing at his watch he was surprised to see that it was just after noon. The Bunker was great, but the lack of windows did mess with your body clock. Charlie obviously felt the same because she announced she need some air and was going on a supply run. Her plan hit a slight snag when they discovered that her car battery was dead. Sam had apologised for not giving the engine a run once in a while when she’d been in Oz, an oversight that Charlie had shrugged off as being seriously low down on his list of recent priorities. 

The only other car road fit was the Impala and the idea of letting anyone drive her, even Charlie, made Sam’s insides squirm. Even before he could reluctantly offer Charlie the keys she’d refused to drive Dean’s Baby.

“I’m not going to help save him just so he can kick my ass for dinging up his precious.”

Sam was momentarily thrown as Cas grinned at Charlie’s Gollum impression until he remembered that Cas now had a head full of literature and films. A quick look at their resident Rip Van Winkle proved that Charlie had at least explained something of the past eighty years of pop culture to Dorothy while they were in Oz. Sam really wanted to get back to research, but was getting ready to drive Charlie into Lebanon when Cas solved the problem by asking the red head;

“How would you like to travel by Angel Air?”

Charlie’s eyes went wide.

“You mean like poof and we’re there?”

Cas nodded and Charlie went into hyper fangirl mode shrieking and bouncing up and down before she scurried off to grab her bag. Cas looked mildly alarmed as he turned to Sam.

“Was that a yes?”

“Defiantly, that was an enthusiastic Charlie yes.”

Dorothy was crouched down giving her motorbike a quick once over, but she popped up added;

“You should have seen her the first time she saw a flying monkey.”

Sam chuckled and looked at Cas. The angel was watching the door waiting for Charlie’s return like an eager puppy. Sam cleared his throat.

“So, you like Charlie then?”

Cas spared the taller man a quick glance.

“She has a refreshingly up-beat personality.”

Sam’s eyebrows hiked slightly, but he had to agree. The woman herself bounced back into the garage grinning from ear to ear. She took a deep breath and asked;

“Okay. I’m ready. What do I need to do?”

“Just hold on tight.”

Cas offered her his arm with a smile and they poofed off to get supplies.

Dorothy wandered towards Sam wiping her hands on a rag.

“Are angels usually that flirty?”

“This one didn’t used to be. You want to see what we’ve found so far?”

 

\---{}---

 

Having Dorothy’s help organizing the scant information he’d found so far on the Mark of Cain was a blessing. Her knowledge of the Bunker and its often infuriating filing systems made everything so much easier. She’d led Sam to a store room he’d not found before and helped him drag out a wheeled chalkboard, which they got into the main room with a bit of grunt work. Toto took a purely supervisory role that largely involved getting under Sam’s feet. Dorothy took the little terrier outside for a run around and that settled him enough that he curled up in a chair for a nap.

The chalkboard wasn’t exactly CSI, but it allowed Sam to make an evidence wall just like they did for a case. The huge main room with its central table had meant that everything was currently laid out on the floor, or ‘dumped any old where’, as Dorothy described it.

After almost two hours they had what little information Sam had scrounged up in order. In the centre of the chalkboard was a large circle containing a heavily drawn question mark. Dorothy rolled her shoulders as she stood next to Sam, drawing a concerned look from the hunter as her joints cracked. Focused on the board she huffed;

“So everything we have hints at a book of lore that we don’t have a name for.”

Sam had vaguely been wondering if it would be weird to offer Dorothy a shoulder rub, quickly snapped his attention back to the board and ran his hands through his hair.

“Pretty much. No name of the author either, just the description of a famed and forceful leader.”

Dorothy pointed at one of the other taped up pages.

“Seems like this one didn’t think much of our mystery writer, they call them ‘an ugly son of a wolf’. Not a fan then.”

Dorothy heaved a sigh and turned to Sam, her face lit up in a grin that made Sam frown. Shaking her head Dorothy stepped into his personal space as she reached up and wiped chalk dust off his cheek. Sam might have leaned into to her touch and Dorothy might have let her hand linger for a little after the dust was gone. They both jump slightly as the sound of rustling wings and a thump came from the kitchen. A second later there came a shout from Charlie.

“Angel Air has landed!”

As the two of them headed into the kitchen Sam might have touched the spot on his cheek where Dorothy’s fingers had been with a small smile on his face.

 

\---{}---

 

In the kitchen they found Charlie sitting on the table watching Cas making coffee.

“I thought you guys were getting supplies?”

“We did. Cas mojoed them away already.”

Charlie jumped down from the table and grabbed Dorothy’s hands.

“You have got to travel by Angel Air, its brilliant! We got stuff for your room come and see.”

With that Charlie dragged Dorothy towards the bedrooms excitedly chatting the whole way. Sam watched as Cas made coffee with precise motions that looked more like he was putting together a complex spell than brewing up some Java.

“I know that look Sam. What’s on your mind?”

“Your back’s to me, how do you know what look I’ve got?”

Cas turned round and smirked.

“I could be without Grace and blind, and I would still know when you’re wearing your ‘We need to talk’ look. So shall we talk?”

Sam sat on the edge of the table and took a moment to organize his concerns.

“Okay, three things. I’m glad you like Charlie, but you know she doesn’t like guys in, well you know, that way.”

Castiel gave a chuckle.

“I have no romantic intentions toward Charlie. I am aware that she prefers the company of women for such intimacies and while as an angel I have no gender, this vessel in most defiantly male.”

Sam was relieved.

“I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up. You do seem smitten.”

Cas brushed off Sam’s worries with a wave of his hand.

“No need to worry on that front Sam. What’s your next thing?”

“You’re using your mojo a lot, for little things that you wouldn’t have wasted it on before. Is everything okay?”

Cas’ brow furrowed slightly before he answered.

“Since unlocking the Gates of Heaven I feel more full of Grace than I can ever remember being.”

It was Sam’s turn to frown now.

“Is this something we need to be worried about Cas? I mean, you’re not going to go nuclear on us, are you?”

The angel’s head tilted to one side while he considered Sam’s question.

“There’s no need to be worried. I think I’ve spent so long cut off from Heaven, my Grace diminishing and then being human with no Grace at all that I simply need to become reacquainted with the sensation again.”

Cas turned his attention back to the coffee for a second.

“That’s the other thing, not that I’m not grateful, but what’s with the domestic goddess routine?”

Cas handed the hunter a fresh cup of coffee.

“Being human and homeless has given me a greater appreciation of the creature comforts. I find the act of preparing coffee to be relaxing and it feels good to know I’m looking after you even when you are pushing yourself beyond your limits.”

It was Cas’ voice and word choice, but Sam was forcibly reminded of his big brother. In a small voice he said;

“You sound like Dean; looking out for me like that.”

The angel gave him a sad look and grasped his shoulder briefly.

“Having someone care for you isn’t a bad thing Sam.”

Cas picked up two coffee cups from the counter and walked to the main room, deliberately not noticing the tears that gleamed in the young hunter’s eyes.

 

\---{}---

 

Sam pulled himself together before joining the others. He found them chatting by the evidence board, as he joined them he heard Cas asked;

“Is the room to your liking Dorothy?”

“It’s great Feathers. To be honest I’ll just be glad to sleep in a bed that wasn’t designed for Munchkins.”

“I wonder what that’d feel like.”

Sam’s joke earned him an eye roll from Charlie who then pointed at the board.

“I was just saying we’re looking for The Highlander.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at her remark. There was some fact linked to what she'd said that was waving from the back of his mind for attention, but he kept his focus on Charlie as she explained.

“Ugly son of a wolf. That’s pretty much what McLeod means; son of an ugly wolf. So we’re looking for a book written by The Highlander Conor McLeod. Just an idea guys.”

Charlie’s tone had become unsure as she took in the angry looks on Sam and Cas’ faces. Sam clenched his fist and tried not to grind his teeth.

“Not Conor. It’s Fergus Roderick McLeod, but he goes by Crowley these days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end? That was a bit of a long one wasn't it? Please take a break from your screen to rest your eyes. They'll need to be in tip-top shape for the next chapter.


	3. Speak of the Devil.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear follows in the wake of joy.

The lights in the Bunker started flickering just as Sam named the King of Hell. His angel blade appeared in Castiel’s hand and both Dorothy and Charlie pulled concealed weapons from under their jackets. Sam was the last to reach for a weapon and he went for the shotgun that was secured to the underside of the table; it was loaded with rock salt shells and this looked like a ghost so far. His fingers just brushed the wooden stock when his arm went cold. Instinct kicked in and he whipped his arm backwards; out of the torso of the ghostly form of Kevin Tran.

The young man’s image flickered at the movement of Sam’s arm. He didn’t seem perturbed that Sam’s hand had just been occupying the same space as his chest. He just rolled his eyes as Sam shook some warmth back into his arm.

“Hey Sam. My Mom’s at the door.”

Cas stowed his blade out of sight and vanished. In the quiet that followed they heard the outer door groan open, a sharp smacking noise followed by heels clicking on the wooden floor and the door moaning its way shut. Kevin stood tip lipped, his arms folded across his chest as he rocked on his heels. He gave Charlie a little wave and nodded politely at Dorothy. Sam frowned at the strange mix of noises coming from the entrance hall and made his way to the bottom of the stairs just as Mrs Tran was making her way down.

Now a height of six foot four is an advantage in many fight situations, except close combat. Normally Sam could keep an attacker at arm’s length, but it turns out that is impossible when your attacker is five foot two of enraged mother. Mrs Tran hurled herself at Sam from three steps up and was instinctively caught around her middle by the hunter. Sam staggered backwards a few steps, but managed to keep his footing. From the tone and intonation it sounded like Mrs Tran was cursing up a storm at him, but Sam couldn’t understand much of what she was shrieking. She landed half a dozen ineffective, but angry blows to Sam’s head and chest. The hunter rolled with these blows and although a lucky swing caught the tip of his nose and made his eyes water he knew there was no chance of serious damage from her fists. It was one of her flailing knees that caused him the most pain as it connected with a very delicate area of his anatomy. 

Sam made the traditional high keening sound as his knees buckled inwards and he slowly toppled forward. This set Mrs Tran back on her feet and Dorothy caught her arm and firmly led her away from the gasping hunter. Castiel had followed Mrs Tran downstairs and now he helped Sam to his feet. Just visible under the scruff of his stubble was a small bright red handprint. He gave Sam a wry smile and said;

“I got away with a slap to the face and being called an illegitimate rodent.”

“Lucky you.” 

Sam wheezed and clapped the angel on the shoulder as he gingerly turned towards the table where Dorothy had seated Mrs Tran. It was probably the fault of Kevin’s smirk of amusement that made Sam tone rather sharp as he spoke:

“So, something upsetting you Mrs Tran?”

Her features narrowed in a withering frown Mrs Tran dug the battered book out of her bag and skimmed it across the table at Sam.

“Crowley sends his regards and asked that we deliver that to you.”

Sam picked up the book and examined the cover. Excitement thrummed through him; they knew that Crowley was linked with the text they needed. Could they actually have caught a break? Could this be the book they needed to find a cure for Dean? With all of this bubbling through his mind Sam didn’t think as he said;

“I guess he had to come through you because Dean’s put me off limits.”

A slight breeze whispered through the room and Mrs Tran’s head snapped up to look at her son.

“Why would Dean have any say over what Crowley does?”

Kevin’s voice was icy calm and that obviously set off warning bells in Charlie’s head as she tugged Mrs Tran from her seat and carefully positioned the anxious mother behind her and Dorothy. Still absorbed by the tattered tome in his hands Sam didn’t register the movement or the slight flicker of the lights.

“Dean’s a demon now, well a Knight of Hell; Crowley’s keeping an eye on him until we can find a cure.”

The lights were at a slow strobe now; books and weapons were rattling on the shelves. Mrs Tran was frantically sobbing Kevin’s name, but her son wasn’t in any state to listen. His entire focus was on Sam.

“Would it have killed you to give us the heads up that Dean’s gone dark side?” 

Sam didn’t get a chance to find an answer as the gale picked up to cyclone levels. He could just make out Kevin yelling at him over the racket. Mrs Tran was trying to get to her son, but was being held back by Charlie and Dorothy. In the midst of the tempest Sam saw Castiel leap across the table and tackle the enraged ghost to the floor. He had a split second to think ‘That’s not possible!’ before there was a blinding flash of light and the raw crackle that he associated with serious angel mojo.

There was a beat of silence and then nothing but the sound of Mrs Tran sobbing. Then came a few thumps and bangs as things settled after the disturbance. The noise that drew Sam’s attention was a scuffling sound from the far side of the table followed by Kevin’s voice.

“Get off me dude. You weigh a ton!”

Sam and the women edged cautiously towards the table. Sam got the first view over the far edge. Kevin was pinned to the floor by Castiel. The angel’s head was titled to one side in his habitual puzzled manner. Kevin gave him another shove and finally Cas stood up and pulled the young man to his feet. Kevin dusted himself off and took in the various confused and shocked looks everyone else was wearing. Everyone was holding their breath; the tension in the room was off the scale, but no one was sure if they should break the news. Kevin was both the source of the tension and completely oblivious to it. He gave a defensive shrug and tipped his head towards Cas as he said;

“What? He’s heavy.”

“Kevin. How do you know he’s heavy?”

Mrs Tran was speaking very carefully as if she was scared that the moment might burst like a soap bubble. Cas was a little less delicate as he poked Kevin in the arm. The prophet poked him back before he caught up with what he’d just done. Kevin looked at his hands in shock. His fingers flew to his neck and he let out a triumphant whoop as he found a pulse. 

The tension broke and there was almost a whoosh as everyone exhaled and broke into grins. Charlie was holding up a weeping Mrs Tran, but this time her tears were of joy as Kevin stood in front of her and did a twirl. His mother pulled him into a bone crushing embrace which Kevin returned with enthusiasm.

Sam wandered across to Castiel who was watching the scene of celebration with a faint smile on his face. Sam cleared his throat and asked;

“You didn’t mention that you’ve been upgraded.”

“Until I felt the compulsion to protect the prophet from harm I didn’t know I had been.”

“I guess this explains all the extra mojo you’ve been using.”

Castiel smiled and nodded. He felt serene and at peace in a way he’d not experienced for, well a very long time. He gave a contented sigh and grinned at Sam.

“There is a crying woman in the Bunker again. Convention dictates that I go and make tea now. You should examine the book Crowley sent.”

Sam smiled at the tea making angel, no sorry archangel, as Cas helped the resurrected prophet get his mom to the couch. Charlie was crying a little and pulled Kevin into a hug before sitting with the Trans on the couch. Sam opened the book Crowley had sent and froze. Dorothy had left the teary group and moved over to Sam. Her smile turned to a frown when she took in his pallid face. Tentatively she reached for his arm and was surprised to find he was trembling.

“Sam? Sam, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed drily and showed her the front page of the book; scrawled in blue crayon were the words;

_Cage weakening. Demons dreaming._

Dorothy read it and her frown deepened.

“I don’t understand. What does it mean?”

Sam’s sight clouded with visions of hellfire; he felt the sizzle and crackle of his skin being consumed; he smelt the sulphurous smoke and heard his own soul wrenching screams. Inhaling deeply through his nose he focused on the concerned hazel eyes in front of him and the soft touch of human contact on the bare skin of his forearm. He gulped and forced the nightmares of the past from his mind.

“It means Lucifer is breaking free. The Morning Star is rising.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what are you thinking guys? Good, bad, ugly? Let me know :)


	4. Above.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile in Heaven.

Hannah was saddened that Castiel had chosen to return to Earth, the emotion was tempered by her new found understanding of his reasons. Her understanding was not complete; if felt like a strange new shape in her mind that she did not know how to grasp. Heaven was open for business again, but the angels were lost without a game plan to follow. So much had changed in the past few years and the feeling of being adrift and without purpose was a pain that burned in the hearts of all angels. Rushing into things was not in Hannah’s nature so she took time to visit her favoured Heaven to think.

The Heaven Hannah had adopted as her own was a Victorian beach. A long stretch of wide soft yellow sand formed a bay bordered by high cliffs that time had moulded into gentle curves. A metal and wood pier stretched from the land into the sea; women in elegant dresses walked side by side with gentlemen in top hats. Hannah found peace sitting on this beach watching children in long swimsuits play under the supervision of parents and nannies.

As she let her focus drift she became aware of a conversation happening not far from her. Normally she tuned out the sound of voices around her while she was here, but for the very first time Hannah listened to the conversation of human souls.  
A young mother was talking to her son; Hannah guessed the boy was around four years old. He had pinched his baby brother; a one year old who was being rocked in his mother’s arms as she soothed his tears.

“You must not pinch you baby brother. If he learns that his mistakes will only bring pain he will never strive for new experiences. You are his big brother and he will always look to you for guidance, it is a great responsibility you have and I would see you do well in it.”

The older boy looked up at his mother and said with seriousness beyond his years;

“I will do my duty to my brother well Mother and make you proud.”

The mother chuckled and pulled her older son into her embrace.

“Love is not a duty my son. It is a joy. Take joy in teaching your little brother new things and you will find along the way that he teaches you as well. Know that when you give your love you will be loved in return."

The boy nodded and hugged his baby brother, who giggled and gurgled in reply. For a second the boy turned back to his bucket and spade, but the he turned back to his mother chewing his bottom lip in confusion;

“How can he teach me anything Mother, he’s so little.”

“You’d be surprised how much you can learn from the littlest things.”

Hannah had tilted her head to one side as she listened to the lesson. As the Epiphany struck her she gasped and her head jerked up right. She stood for a moment as the sheer enormity of her realisation struck her like a physical force. All the time she had spent in this heaven and she’d never once listen to the souls around her. She didn’t even know the name of this place. Hannah realized that the angels had never truly understood their Father’s orders to love humanity. They had treated it as a duty; considered humans as small and beneath them; seen them as a troublesome herd that took their Father’s love from them. None of the Host had tried to understand humanity. No, that wasn’t true; at least one angel had sought to know humans better.  
Hannah saw the path that the remaining angels needed to take. They couldn’t walk this path alone. They needed a guide, a teacher and Hannah knew exactly where to find one.


	5. Below.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While down in Hell.

Dean walked through the stone arch and found himself with a choice; left or right? He was about to turn right when the sound of his own name made him turn left instead. He had to stop and listen a few times as whoever was saying ‘Winchester’ kept dropping to a mumble that was lost in the screams and moans of other souls.

Finally he found the source of the voice. The cell in question had no door, but that was common in this stretch of Hell. There was no need for chains or locks when the souls where trapped in the hell of their own minds; their own nightmares and fears torturing them more completely than any demon ever could. Hunched in a corner, rocking slightly back and forth was the dirty and bloody form of Bela Talbot.

The broken Brit was staring at Dean with unseeing eyes. He thought she must have some sense of his presence as her rocking increase. He leant against the doorway and watched her for a long, long moment. She was so very different from the confident proud woman who had constantly got the better of Dean with her sticky fingers. All of her scheming and planning hadn’t saved her from her deal; the Hellhounds had come for her just as they had for Dean. He remembered talking to her in her last moments on Earth, the frustration he’d felt that she’d not come to him for help. The Mark of Cain on his arm burned and distracted him. Dean’s eyes flashed black as he looked down at the Mark in annoyance. He scratched it gently and looked back up at Bela. She flinched when she saw his black eyes and tried to dig her way further into her corner, her shoulder blades scrabbling uselessly against the rough stonework.

Dean smiled slowly and approached Bela carefully. He dropped into to a crouch a few feet from her, still smiling and eyes still black.

“Hey Bela. I told you I’d see you in Hell, didn’t I?”

Bela stopped rocked and fixed her eyes on Dean’s face. She tentatively reached out a hand, but snatched it back before she got anywhere close to Dean.

“You can’t be Dean. No. No. No. Dean Winchester came and went. Big fuss. Angry demons and screaming angels. So, no, no you can’t be Dean. He’s not Dean. No. Dean got out. Got saved. Not a demon.”

Bela drifted into mumbling again shaking her head like a toddler denying bedtime. Dean chuckled softly.

“This place has done a number on you. I thought you’d be all demoned up and making deals after a week down here. Glad I didn’t put money on that one.”

Shaking his head Dean rose to his feet and turned to go, but Bela started talking again and he found himself pausing to listen to her ramblings.

“They’ll be brothers again. Always brothers. Or is it sisters? No, silly, brothers always brother. Shoulder to shoulder against the world. For the world? World anyway. Whispers and dreams in the dark. Whisper, whisper, whisper. Put everything right. Make Daddy proud. Always have to make Daddy proud. Daddy’s happy then everyone’s happy. Got to remember that. Never forget that. Stop crying it’ll all look better in the morning light.”

Once again she trailed off into silence. Dean looked at her for a second and said;

“See you around Bela.”

“Dean Winchester is going to start it. He’s the key. Then everything will be right again.”  
Dean huffed and walked away thinking that Bela must be repeating things she’d heard years ago about the First Seal. That was all done and over with and he wasn’t going to let a crazy Brit try and rile him up about past mistakes. He grinned as a demon stepped as to let him pass and decided it was time to pester Crowley again.


	6. In Between, or Behind the Scences?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heaven above, Hell below, where does that put Limbo?

“That’s all I know. It’s all the demons are talking about. Saying it’s a dream come true for them.”

The fang was panting, his eyes darting around looking for an escape route that wasn’t there. Meg kept her eyes on her captive as she pushed the blade a little closer to his throat. She tilted her head and asked over her shoulder;

“You think he’s telling the truth?”

Benny finished scraping dried gore from under his nails before he answered. The paused made the fang nervous, he tried to swallow but Megs blade was too close to his throat. 

“I think he’d be a fool to lie to you Cherie.”

A flash of hope crossed the fang’s face. Benny sighed as Meg forced the blade through his neck and took his head off. The hope was still in his eyes as he died and Benny found himself remembering the words of an angel and wondered once again what happened to a monster killed in monster heaven. He stowed the metaphysical musings and looked at Meg.

“That makes ten new arrivals telling us the same thing; Dean Winchester is a demon now.”

Meg flicked the fang’s blood off her blade and stretched her petite frame. She glanced at Benny, but quickly went back to scanning the forest around them; Purgatory was not the place for deep meaningful eye contact, danger was really behind every tree here.

“All of them with the same story? I think it’s probably true, for a given value of true.”

Benny chuckled in that deep gravelly way of his;

“You sure don’t trust easy, Meg.”

Meg spared the vampire a quick look that spoke volumes.

“I trusted you pretty quick.”

Benny gave her a grin and thought back to their first meeting here in the perpetual twilight of Purgatory.

 

\---{}---

 

His promise to Dean was kept; Sam was out of the portal in one piece, though in Benny’s opinion the taller Winchester didn’t look to be holding together all that well, at least he’d survived this part of the Trial. The vampires that attacked as Sammy got to the portal were embarrassingly easy to deal with. As the last one fell he’d thrown his head back and howled. It might be messed up, but it felt good to be back here. 

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted movement, to far back to be attacking, but lurking was not normally a good sign. Benny turned slowly and as he did he caught the lurker’s scent; demon, but there was something else familiar there; he just couldn’t place it. As he came about he found himself looking at a petite blonde who radiated a kick ass attitude on every frequency. For a long moment the two of them sized each other up without speaking. Benny looked away first and with a wry smile said;

“If you’re waiting on an opening to attack me, I’d say you’ve missed your chance.”

The blonde huffed out a laugh and moved a few steps closer. Benny tensed and tightened his grip on his axe. She spotted this and held her open, empty hands up.

“I don’t want to fight you. I would have been here to help you sooner but I got caught up back there with some of your fan club. I just want to ask a question.”

“You can certainly ask little lady.”

“Did I really just see you with Bobby Singer and Sam Winchester?”

Benny’s rumbling laugh echoed off the trees. It suddenly clicked in his head exactly what the familiar notes in her scent were.   
“You know the Winchester boys?”

“Oh yeah. You’re not the first one from the dark side to join their team.”

“Dark side, aha you smell mostly demon, but they don’t get sent here.”

“No idea how that happened. Crowley stabbed me and I wound up here. What do you mean mostly demon?”

“You got the scent of an angel all over you Cherie. Castiel to be precise. Take it you know him too.”

The blonde smiled and gave her head a little shake.

“Yeah, me and Clarence are, old friends.”

The vampire nodded and closed the distance between them. He moved slowly with his hand extended.

“Name’s Benny, pleasure to meet a friend of the Winchesters.”

She gripped his hand and shook it firmly.

“I’m Meg. Duck!”

Meg used her grip on Benny’s hand to propel herself forward as she pulled a knife from under her jacket. Benny stumbled half a step and swung himself round in time to see Meg split a ghoul from belly to neck.

“I think we’re gonna get along just fine Cherie.”

 

\---{}---

 

They were at the river before Benny said;

“Spill the beans, Cherie. What’s getting you riled up about all this?”

Meg crouched down and rinsed her blade in the fast flowing water. She took a deep inhale and looked at the vampire who’d hunkered down next to her.

“Every new arrival has said the same thing; Dean’s a demon and all of Hell thinks it’s a dream come true. I’m not worried about Dean going black eyed, he can cope with it. It’s the dreaming that’s worrying me, demons only dream when the Cage is weakening.”

Benny’s eyebrows hiked up at that.

“The Cage? As in Lucifer’s Cage?”

“The one and only; built to hold one fallen angel with daddy issues, except since the Winchesters stopped the Apocalypse it now holds two; Michael and Lucifer. If it is weakening it can’t mean anything good is happening.”

Benny blew out a slow breath and splashed some river water on his face.

“We can’t do much from down here Cherie, so what’s your plan?”

Meg turned her head towards him and gave him a grin that would have terrified a shark.

“We’re going to Hell.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope the attempts a humour aren't too unfunny. This story is rapidly heading into angst and tear jerking territory, so I'm trying for a few smiles before I drag you all into Hell.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are as vital as a cup of tea for a crying woman.


End file.
